


Interstate 5

by Chicary



Category: The Killing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-17 21:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 13,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1402546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chicary/pseuds/Chicary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Have you heard of the Prisoner's Dilemma? 30-day drabble challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> 1.1

_Beginning_

Linden hates training. But it’s also her last day of work so she’ll make the remaining time worthwhile.

 

* * *

 

It’s not in her DNA to slow down for another person. He’s going to have to absorb what he can in the six hours before her flight and after that, well, after that it’s not going to be her problem.

The car ride is aggravating. She’s in her zone and the sound of his voice makes it hard for her to think. She doesn’t want to answer his irrelevant and invasive questions. She decides that she’s not going to be patient with him. He seems like the type that can take it but she also wants to kick him back a little for throwing his weight around outside his own neighbourhood.

* * *

Not everything has to tie back to narcotics.

Please stop yelling while she’s on the phone.

No, he can’t drive. She doesn’t want to have to readjust the seat later on.

* * *

She’s an astute observer by nature and by trade and she wants to deal with the elephant in the room tactfully. _Why has this person been assigned to homicide?_

She throws out a line, but it doesn’t catch: “In situations like this, I like to ask myself ‘what would Jesus do?’”

His seamless evasion earns him a slice of respect, although he’d never know why.

She chooses not to say anything as he lights a cigarette without being mindful of well… nevermind.

* * *

The way he spoke to the teacher was every kind of inappropriate, but also sort of funny. 

* * *

She feels the familiar pull as she’s talking to Rick on the phone and she can barely hear what he’s saying. The field of tall grass, the smell of the earth after a rainfall, the sound of chirping birds mingled with radio signals from the hips of police officers, the exhaustion of searching and searching but turning up nothing yet having the _gut feeling_ that she’s really, really close.

She has to say it out loud:

“I am not staying.”

* * *

Somehow, she’s failed to realize that he’d probably never seen a body before. The dead have become an unsettling norm for her and she forgets that not all police officers share this experience.

She sympathizes with his ability to stick it out when the trunk door is lifted and Rosie Larsen is revealed to them for the first time. He’s stricken but resolute, and she’s not sure if it’s because he’s still trying to impress her or if something else is at work.

He seems a little rattled when he sees the father, however.

Later she’ll learn that Lieu wants her to stay until the end of the week, just to “see it through.” She’ll realize that her impromptu partner really did manage to learn the ropes on that first day, well enough, in fact, to cover some ground on his own in that unconventional way of his. She’ll be glad to have some more time with this case but not without a little resentment at Lieu for baiting her.

And she’ll find that it’s in her best interest to cut the rookie some slack.


	2. Accusation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2.2

_Accusation_

 

Linden says nothing, only gestures for Jack to hide in the bathroom. He knows what’s up, even though she doesn’t have to explain it and she doesn’t know if she should be glad or ashamed.

Holder is loud and frantic as he bangs on her hotel door and the last thing she wants is to get the neighbours involved or, worse, the police.

Her hand seeks out the gun at her hip because that’s what she’s actually willing to do if she has to:

Shoot him.

Over the years, Linden had grown accustomed to the raucous sound of a man yelling. It’d been a right of passage of sorts among the men she’d worked with, especially since the Seattle PD didn’t exactly have its arms open to equal this and that.

But this banging and yelling, it’s a more personal attack and it puts her on guard. They’d had a trusting relationship, fallen into a somewhat pleasant synchrony, were (admittedly) effective as a team. They had the same ambition and stubborn pride that put them on equal footing and worked ridiculous hours together when everyone else had long clocked out. They were almost friends.

So what Holder did: to the case, the integrity of their partnership, his own honour as a cop and the collective trust of the Seattle Police Department, it was cold-blooded.

When he finally falls silent, she waits at the door, listening attentively for movement from the other side. She’s tense, angry, ashamed and humiliated. She’s worried about Jack, how much he like Holder and what he would think about her. She wants Holder to leave but knows it’s going to be hard to tell because the peephole can only show her so much of the world outside and Holder’s really, really good at deception.

Jack’s hungry and all she can do is nod towards the fridge from her corner at the door.

By the time she lets her hand slip from the holster, her arm is numb. She’s exhausted from the forced silence and thoroughly sick of feeling trapped in that little room. When she chances a look outside, only his badge is there. She lets out a breath, it’s either a sign of gross irresponsibility or great trust. Either way, she picks it up and stuffs it in her jacket pocket.

* * *

Holder wonders if this is the price you pay for being stupid. Maybe six months isn’t long enough to get the stink of being a tweeker off you. Or maybe he hasn’t done enough to prove that things are different now.

He’d come to expect disappointment from Liz and Davie, but it still hurts to see them confirm it, especially that look Davie gives him when he has to pick sides. He wouldn’t say he expects forgiveness, but their blood connection is something to hold onto.

He comes to Linden expecting even less but he’s desperate for her to understand. Linden’s trust is super hard to earn and pretty damn easy to lose, but he can still appeal to the stuff they’d done together, right? How for the both of them the case was more than just a job, how they’re a pretty unstoppable tag-team force when they have to be, how they get each others’ backs when no one else believes them, even how much Little Man seemed to like him (more than her so-called fiancé). Maybe she’ll think back to all those things and talk to him and let him explain that it was all a big mistake, that he’d made a stupid move because he’s still new to homicide and he thought his source was reliable and it was a pretty damn realistic picture (even though that’s not a good excuse, obviously). Everything else he’d done up until that point was good, right? Like he might not have played squeaky clean at first, but he gets the job done and they’ve been moving forward (sometimes sideways, but _overall_ forward) this whole time. He can fix it; if she gave him just one chance, he can fix it.

He can fix it!

C’mon, Linden, just open the door!

Open the door, Linden!

He sinks against the wall. She’s not going to answer but he doesn’t know what to do now. He’s stuck right in the middle of his own damn mess and he needs her to drag him out and shove him in the right direction. Some cop. He got the badge in his hands only by playing dirty. Whatever. Fuck it. Bye, Linden.


	3. Restless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2.7

_Restless_

At 2am, the doubt and fear and guilt are more aggressive than they’d ever been. Carefully, as not to disturb Jack, Linden shifts her position on Holder’s bed, trying to make herself comfortable. Outside, a light shines at the oddest possible angle through the window and the wispy white curtains do nothing for it. She imagines the worst but it only turns out to be a streetlamp, a permanent fixture that Holder somehow manages to deal with every single night.

She decides that maybe getting a drink of water would help, or even a small sip of Nyquil (cabinet above the utensil drawer, beside the extra bowls; the stuff is like crack for insomniacs). Maybe sleeping in her jeans and thick sweater is the problem, but she doesn’t really have much of a choice.

The entire apartment creaks with every step and there’s no nighttime traffic to make it less loud. Holder’s even breathing comes from the couch and she finds him on his side, both arms tucked under his face and half of his blanket pooling on the ground.

Linden has seen him sleep before - slumped over his desk after a 30-hour day or leaning heavily against the passenger window during long car rides back to the station. But this is the first time she’s seen him as how he’d normally sleep, in his own home, his own niche. He’s peaceful, relaxed and not nearly so taut. So this is what Holder looks like when he’s not trying to prove something to the world.

Linden gently pulls the blanket over him and tucks it under his socked feet. He sighs and wiggles his toes, but doesn’t wake up. Maybe his sister’s done this for him growing up, she thinks.

There is a peace here, an inexplicable safety that is more reliable and true than anywhere she’s been in a long time. There are no cameras, security guards or alarm systems but there is an atmosphere of family (mismatched as they were) and the warm comfort of an actual _home_.

She lets her hand rest at his feet, a kind of thanks for his generosity towards her and Jack. Touch is something she’s slowly growing accustom to, but it’s still hard.

“If anything happens to me,” she says, instinctively and unplanned like an exhale, “I want you to look after Jack. He likes you.”

There is so much shame in her words, not because she doesn’t mean it but because it’s an acknowledgement of her weakness. It’s only in this darkness, to someone who can’t hear her, that she can admit she’s failing her son. It’s so painful, but a burden lifted nonetheless.

She makes her way back to bed, forgetting why she got up in the first place. She’ll lie wide-awake for a few more hours, beside her son but so distant from him. She won’t know when she’ll fall asleep but when she wakes up, she’ll feel well-rested and rejuvenated. She’ll hear the sounds of morning activities from the kitchen and see her son smiling for the first time in a long time.

And she’ll see Holder in an apron and think it’s the funniest thing ever.


	4. Snowflake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2.13

_Snowflake_

By Day 26, Linden has nothing left but the case and when she finally crosses that finish line, she’s left wondering if it was really worth the chase after all. Holder seems to think so, but then he still has a home and a family to root him in this place. Linden doesn’t think he’s in the position to speak for her, even despite what he’s gone through.

The car ride back to the station is a little awkward. Since the day they’d met, the case had always been present. It was something they could fall back on when conversation strayed where it shouldn’t have gone or nerves were touched. With that safety net removed, there’s nothing to keep things in the… personable but professional classification and it’s not easy to just… talk.

It is then that Holder’s phone rings. When he tells her about the body, Linden finds herself at an impasse.

A force, one greater than her stubborn pride or relentless need for closure, guides her to get out of the car. The look Holder gives her through the rolled-down window is a pleading one, but the words never make it to his lips.

He disconnects his gaze for a split second, “Linden, we got the bad guy.”

“Yeah, who’s that?” Her reply is biting, but she knows he can take it.

Holder accepts that this is how they’ll say sayonara, “Hey, keep in touch. You’re my ride, you know?”

She finds herself wandering after he’s driven off. She strolls down the familiar streets aimlessly; no time crunch, no pursuit, no being vilified by those she’d set out to help. It’s a cleansing for her, a way to become a blank slate again.

She thinks about a new start and how it would look. It’ll probably be away, where no one really knows her or cares to know her. Maybe she’ll want a job with actual hours, one that’s easy and stress free. She’ll want to be able to keep in touch with Regi and Jack, maybe through Skype or something. There are so many things to consider that she doesn’t know where to start.

But then there’s also a lot of time, which is really all she has left. Time. Lots and lots of time.


	5. Haze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2.10

_Haze_

Personnel in generic neutral colours, the steady beep, beep, beeping of medical equipment, the smell of sterility, and the artificial docility of crazy people – Linden is drowning in all of it.

Some time between lucidity and unconsciousness, Linden had been taken from her world and thrown into this one. It’s a world she’s seen before and it terrifies her to have to see it again.

Something is wrong with her mind and it’s hard to think clearly. It’s as if someone had been tampering with the inside of her head, like there’s an opaque veil obstructing her ability to understand what’s going on.

But Linden fights back anyways, because that’s how she deals with everything that gets in her way. She tries to reason with them but reasoning doesn’t work with staff in a Psych ward. She fights back with her fists and kicks but there’s too many of them and they overwhelm her, dragging her away and forcing more meds into her. She plays along, behaves herself until she thinks she’s gotten somewhere with them but they know what she’s doing and they use it to get to parts of her that she wants to hide.

They have good reasons to believe she’s crazy and she sinks more and more as they lay out each reason, one by one.

She becomes part of the masses; wearing the same hospital gowns they all wear, eating when they eat, and drugged up on the same sedatives they’re drugged up on.

Eventually, it’s not only the walls and locks and detached interactions with the staff that keep her in; it’s her own beliefs. She begins to think that they’re right because she’s the only one on her side anymore. She thinks, as she ravenously scarfs down her lunch, that this was meant to happen and that this place is good for her after all.

* * *

As long as Holder knows Linden is fighting to get out of there, he will fight for her too. He has precious little time to divide between the case and getting Linden out and he finds himself alone on both fronts.

The obstacles in his path push him to believe that he’s wrong and _they_ are right. But Holder has faith in Linden and he’s not about to give up anytime soon. Had it not been for her, he’d be dead in some forest on that god-forsaken island and the Larsen case would have died long ago. He refuses to believe anything other than the fact that they’ve been set up by a power much bigger than themselves and that they’d be buried in this lie unless they kept kicking back.

He just hopes that Linden continues to believe that too.

* * *

In the midst of all this grey and non-stop rain, she’s thrown a lifeline. It comes in the form of an obnoxious partner sporting still-healing battle scars.

“I’m gonna get you out of here. You hear? I’m not leaving you here.”

With weak hands, Linden reaches out to grasp those words. It’s scary, being helpless and naked and she wants to believe that she can get back the control she once had. She’s tired and she’ll have to depend on him to save her but she knows what he says will come true.

Linden holds on tight and doesn’t let go.

* * *

The phone conversation with Mr. Sonoma is incredibly uncomfortable. Holder learns stuff that he’s not sure he’d want to hear from anyone but Linden herself. It’s like rummaging around in her bedroom and he feels guilty for doing this behind her back. Regardless, she’ll understand.

* * *

For a short moment, she sees Rick and it’s like old times again. She rushes to see him, only to find that he’s already gone. No plane ride, no Sunday barbeque, no wedding. She returns only to Holder and the Larsen case. But in her deep disappointment, Linden is grateful because one promise kept is better than none kept at all.

She follows her partner out of the hospital and allows herself to pass out during the car ride back


	6. Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3.7

  _Flame_

Holder lays a hand on her shoulder and rubs gentle circles there. She’s high-strung, afraid, so on edge that the slightest unexpected touch might make her shrink away. The last thing she’d felt had been the point of a gun on her head, after all.

He wants to pull her closer, to hold onto her tight to make sure she’s really there and safe. Instead, he gives her some space because he knows what’s going on in the inside of her mind and it’s not the time for that, if there ever is a time.

* * *

_Holder grabs her by the back of the neck and shoves her as hard as he can. She’s a junkyard lying little bitch and he has no mercy for her. He was a fool to have trusted her and he wants her to know that she’d pissed off the wrong person._

_He doesn’t know what he’ll do if she doesn’t get out of his sight. Everything about her screams_ dirty _and_ scum _and_ trash _. He doesn’t understand how she could turn on him. How, after_ everything, _that she could possibly do that._

* * *

He shows up with some blissfully greasy take-out. For some time, they eat in silence.

* * *

_He’s screaming at the top of his lungs and he doesn’t care who hears._

* * *

“I thought I’d lost you there for a second. Just when I was getting used to you.”

* * *

_“Yeah, that’s right. I’m not your friend. I don’t give a shit about you. You’re just a nobody, nothing, punk-ass kid. Now get out!”_

* * *

Desperation makes Holder destroy everything in his path to get to the thing he wants. He’d told himself he’d change and he has. But some things are so deeply rooted in who you are that they stay with you regardless of how long you’ve stayed off the drugs (or sex, or meat, or…). Regardless, the danger has passed now and they can get back on track, together.

* * *

_Desperation makes Holder destroy everything in his path to get to the thing he wants. He’d told himself he’d change and he has. But some things are so deeply rooted in who you are that they stay with you regardless of how long you’ve stayed off the drugs (or sex, or meat, or…). Regardless, this friendship is over. She is an unreliable C.I. and there is nothing left to talk about._

* * *

In that moment, the most important thing to him is Linden.

* * *

_At that moment, he couldn’t hate Bullet any more._

* * *

I’m glad you’re okay.

I hope you’re okay.

You can trust me.

I’m here.

I’ve got your back.

I’m glad I found you.

I’m glad I got there in time.

I should have gotten there sooner.

* * *

 

_I don’t care about you._

_Nobody does._

_‘Cause that’s what you are._

_A nobody._

_Now get out.  
_

_Leave._

_Disappear_

_Burn._


	7. Formal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3.1

_Formal_

At one point or another, Linden is going to have to admit it. She misses him.

She’s not really sure why, although there are some obvious reasons. So when he shows up at her door one day decked out in a neatly pressed shirt and tie, it’s more than just a pleasant surprise.

Cue awkward small talk.

They update each other on what’s happened in the past year for each of them. Things seem to be going well health and work-wise. There’s no talk of significant others or the like, but a partner is mentioned on Holder’s part and Linden finds herself fixated on that bit of conversation. Mostly she’s wondering if this new partner is male or female. Not that it matters, of course.

_He’s cleaned up a lot and it looks like he has gained some meat on his bones too. He doesn’t bear the telltale signs of a junky anymore. He’s even tanned a little. And shaved, thank goodness._

Cody pops in and there is the obligatory introduction. She chooses her words carefully but Holder snatches the opportunity to be… well… Holder.

_And it was_ _this sort of thing that she liked about him. How he’s able to make light of anything and bring her back when her thoughts got dark. He grounded her._

She learns that Holder and Jack had kept in touch. The mother in her wonders what they talk about but she knows better than to ask.

_There were so many opportunities for them to be intimate but it never happened. She finds herself wondering why. Maybe it was the time crunch they’d face, the kind of time crunch that makes you put off showering for three days or so._

Conversation (inevitably) turns towards murder. He brings up the case that put her in the Psychiatry ward; the case she’d told herself is solved and buried. The temptation is in front of her, presented nice and neatly on a plate and the addict in her awakens.

_The age gap certainly isn’t an excuse, at least not an excuse anymore. Maybe it was because she’d felt guilty about Rick. Rick had been good to her and she let him down. Multiple times._

But now she runs every day, is smoke free and has her hot tea in her hands.

_(Holder’s hotter though. If you like smart-mouthed toothpicks.)_

Holder asks about the Seward file and Linden deflects. She knows he would see through it and he does. The question then becomes why she’d deflect at all.

_Ah, but she’d always had a thing for men in suits. Everyone has their thing and she has hers. Simple as that._

Linden tells him not to get too involved. Something in his eyes incriminates her but he’s become better with his words, it seems. Linden feels like she’d been shot down.

Her eyes follow him as the door closes behind him and he gets in his car. From her window, she watches his car pull away. _And she regrets ending things here because she’s done it again; she’s cut things off without proper closure._

The file of the case he’s working on is still on her table. She knows Holder knows better than to forget something this important. She’s miffed but a little flattered that he knows her so well. Whatever, tomorrow she’ll just drop it off at his office. _It’s an excuse to see him again. Kind of._

She chances a peek inside the file.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I don't actually believe this is what she's thinking during this scene. I love this scene, mostly because we get to see Linden and Holder reunite, but also because it's so layered and compact with unspoken truths. I wrote this to explore the possibility that Linden was sexually attracted to Holder at some point during Seasons 1&2\. Given where the conversation headed, I doubt she's thinking about what's under his spiffy clothes but... I don't know... call it a not-too-distant AU maybe?


	8. Companion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3.8

_Companion_

The darkness is a comfort. They’d become so well acquainted to it: the dreary grey of Seattle’s constant downpour, the late nights at the office, the breaking into places they shouldn’t be breaking into (also late at night) and the observation area of the interrogation room where they can see everything from their discreet vantage point.

When Linden uses Holder’s spare key to get into his apartment, she sees only his silhouette, a dark shadow against the faintest bit of evening light. Thick cigarette smoke fills the room and she almost feels suffocated by it, despite being a regular smoker herself.

She finds her place beside him and he hands her the near-empty box. She thinks ‘what the heck’ and takes one. For a while, it’s clear that they don’t know what to say.

And that’s where they fall into their other source of comfort: the case, or rather, any case they happen to be working on. Since day one, work had been their life as well as their lifeline. In a kind of twisted irony, it’d always been there to pull them out of uncomfortable situations.

Holder asks about Adrian and it’s obvious that he’s trying hard to keep the convo afloat. He struggles to sustain the energy to care and they fall into silence again.

“I should have picked up.”

Linden seizes the chance to be a friend to him. “Don’t do that.”

But the dam has already broken and his guilt pours out. The burden is so heavy that she can almost feel it pressing down on her. The guilt is immense, as well as the shame, regret and myriad of ‘what ifs.’ If Linden doesn’t stop him now, doesn’t mend the bleeding wound, he’d drown in it and she wouldn’t be able to pull him out.

“It’s not your fault.”

“You want to sit here and die?”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not your fault!”

But she’s gotten too close because, at that moment, she sees him bear it all. He’s completely vulnerable and trusting and perfectly broken in that moment and he seeks an intimacy she cannot give.

Linden has to be the one to set the boundary. It’s painful but she knows it’s the right thing to do. They, Linden and Holder, had gotten where they are through some kind of awkward dance and this is just the next clumsy step – at least that’s how she reasons it.

But then Holder can’t take it any longer and he’s sobbing. Linden is at a loss because she’s rusty on her soft skills and she all but freezes. She reaches to pat his shoulder but thinks twice about the skin-on-skin contact. Instead, she offers a friendly pat on his knee before withdrawing her touch.

And she leans back on the couch, repeating that mantra over and over again as if to reassure herself that her own personal failure isn’t the end of everything.

_“It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay.”_

Maybe her words will get through to him and maybe they won’t. But Holder needs this emotional release and she would stick by him, whether it’d be through uncomfortable silences, pointless lines, as a nicotine companion or someone to warm the seat beside him. She will be there so that when he pulls himself out of it, he’ll see that he’s not alone in this, that his pain is not unique to him and that she’d been there in the darkness with him all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to remind myself that the “constant downpour” is, indeed, in Seattle and not Vancouver where it’s actually shot. There is, in fact, a lot of rain in Vancouver and a typical week in spring yields one rainy day for every 2 sunny ones. Sidenote: they were filming Season 4 two blocks from my workplace and, despite all my efforts to stalk, I failed to catch even a glimpse of either of them.


	9. Move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2.13

_Move (on)_

This is how she always leaves. It’s better to give him a playful smack on the shoulder or a quip about his abilities as a detective than to say what’s pressing on her heart. To say it would mean recognizing that there’s an attachment there that makes this hard for her too and why do that when it’s better to keep your eyes forward?

She walks a straight line around the corner and out the door. Maybe she wishes that his eyes follow her as she leaves and maybe she doesn’t. Linden wants to be missed, at least to know that she is grounded somewhere. At the same time, she’d always known that this arrangement, her last days with the Seattle PD and _him_ , was temporary.

_He smiled, making his dimples appear, “Guess what I’m not saying now?”_

She tells Jack to pack up, hopefully for the last time. She makes sure they’re nice and early for the plane, her thoughts only of Rick and sunshine (finally) and a real home.

_“Oh, so now I’m okay to work alone?”_

It’s also a good opportunity to forget about her ex-husband. How he scared the hell out of her the day Jack went ‘missing,’ and how he heartlessly threatened to take away the only thing she had left, when he already had everything. Jack doesn’t make it easy on her. It’s painful to admit, but her son has a genuine bond with this man and guilt trips her about leaving without closure.

_“You want a tip? That mouth of yours, you don’t have to say every thought that runs through your head.”_

It is not until she’s seated that her anxiety is alleviated. After so many failed (but honest) attempts to get on that plane, she’s made it. She reclines against the seat, smiles at her son and tells herself that she can relax now.

_“You’re a pretty good cop, Holder. You’re going to make a passable detective.”_

And that’s when her phone rings.


	10. Silver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3.8

_Silver_

The rings were all dirty, except for their insides where they were polished being worked off their victims’ fingers. The collection was like a little gravesite, each the only identifying marker of the person who once lived.

One piece stood out from the rest: a necklace with a heavy, elongated pendant made of some kind of metallic material or opaque crystal. It looked to have seen a lot of action, which wouldn’t have been much of a surprise considering who it belonged to.

Here in this box, it guarded over the rest. It was the big, bold, gatekeeper that couldn’t easily be missed over.

Holder and Bullet had gotten along well, very well. And it was more than because they both knew the language of the streets. For Holder, Linden assumed, Bullet was both a mirror to his past self as well as a possibly of what could have been if life for him hadn’t changed.

And now, she existed as a possibility of what could have been had Linden not pulled him away from the median of that highway.

Linden had never stolen from the evidence locker before. This would be her first time doing so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The opening line was borrowed from BBC's Sherlock, episode 1.


	11. Prepared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.8

_Prepared_

The irony of working with a partner and working as part of a team is that they’re not exempt from suspicion when there’s a cause to do so. When a leak is sprung, eyes are peeled and no one escapes scrutiny.

But it’s this kind of alertness that Linden is accustomed to. She likes to think herself independent, strong, objective, resilient and all the other connotations that comes with being an efficient detective. And she also likes to think herself unbiased when she bestows her astute judgment on the detective from “County,” especially with regards to his work ethic.

Her mind is already thinking five steps ahead, to how she’s going to go about the Larsen case alone, as she secretly tails behind her partner’s car. She thinks she has this one in the bag; that she has one-up him on this one and she’s proud of it. It’s also an opportunity, she thinks, to prove to the Lieu that this partnership isn’t working and that she’d seen it coming. Maybe he’d work harder to screen people when they join the team as well.

And it never occurs to her that her partner is anything other than a detective. The side she’d seen she’d automatically assumed was the only side to see, so when the secrets to what lay within that discreet community building came to light, she finds herself at a loss for words.

Through the frosty window, Linden bears witness to Holder’s personal life. For a brief moment, the case is set aside and a guilt-evoking truth is presented to her. Accompanied by the safety and security of those like him, Holder bears his raw scars. He speaks with hesitant words about old sins that cannot be buried and his ever-relentless pursuit of redemption. His eyes and gait are determined and he’s like a child wanting more than anything to make things right again.

A genuine connection between them forms then.

Linden feels rooted in this moment because she knows it’s a rare glimpse into his humanity. Behind his back, she is granted this access without a sacrifice on her part. It is how she likes it and she plans not to lose her position.

But then there’s hitch in her plan. Some force; maybe fate, karma, or the god that Holder believes in (and subsequently submitted all power to) is the cause behind it. Or maybe it’s just bad timing. Her phone rings, giving away her hiding spot. She takes off before they make eye contact but knows it’s too late. The ringing of her phone brings the case back to the forefront for the both of them and an awkwardness hangs between them until the next time they speak again.

And when they do, there is born a new sense of trust, one that will prove to make this partnership a little more enjoyable.


	12. Knowledge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S1

_Knowledge_

_“Do you think you can really know someone?”_

Rick knows Linden.

Rick knows that when Linden accepts a case, it becomes her life. He knows he doesn’t stand a chance against the dead people that come across Linden’s desk, but he convinces himself otherwise anyways. He wants to tell himself that Linden meant what she said about changing (which she did) and that second chances can turn a life around. He believes that because he’d had front row seats in seeing Linden at her worst, that he’ll be the first to see her at her best. Rick hopes and hopes that these things are true.

But the tragic truth is that Rick knows Linden too well. He knows he’ll have to cancel their private little welcome party, the barbeque on Sunday and whatever pre-wedding preparations they’ll have together before the big day. He knows she won’t come to him, that he’s going to have to come back and fetch her himself and _even then_ he’ll have to give her a hard ultimatum.

What he doesn’t know is that maybe he doesn’t know her as well as he thinks he knows her. In truth, there won’t be a wedding and that he will have to play doctor again because Linden tried hard but failed to change after all.

* * *

Linden knows Lieu. She knows that he knows that she’s devoted to her job and she knows that he respects her for it. She knows that it’s a tough battle working in a department in which the majority of people are men but Lieu treats her the same as everyone else because he cares about quality more than anything. She knows that he knows he can bait her with a new case just _hours_ before she leaves forever. And she knows that she will fall into this chasm because she knows that he knows her.

Linden knows Regi. And how can she not when Regi had been the only constant in her life growing up? But Linden fights Regi because she hates hearing that she’s wrong. She hates hearing that she’s neglectful of herself and Jack and that she’s devoting too much to the case. She hates hearing that her obsession with her work is taking her down _that_ path again because _it’s different this time_. She hates hearing that her child is acting out because of the things she’s doing and not because he’s just misbehaving. When Regi speaks, she’s right and Linden doesn’t want to hear it.

Linden knows Rosie Larsen. Or at least she’s trying to because it’s part of her job. Her forte as a detective had always been in her ability to walk in her victims’ shoes and live through their eyes. She believes this is how she’ll unearth how Rosie died and, in doing so, both give Rosie’s family the justice they deserve as well as satisfy her relentless need to bring her cases to a conclusion.

And Linden knows Holder.

They couldn’t be more different and being able to work as a team had been a steep uphill climb. But Linden concedes that everyone has his or her secrets, she certainly has her fair share. She quickly comes to realize his carefree behavior and ‘tough guy’ acts are masks for something else and she knows not to press. She knows that sometimes his best screws things up royally but she also knows that he’ll do his best to fix them. When he’s upset, she knows it’s best not to say anything and that simply her presence is enough.

Every time she leaves, or attempts to leave, she knows that he’s not entirely cool with it because he’s still fresh to homicide and unprepared to work alone. She knows he won’t show it and she plays along as to not emasculate him.

She knows that he loves his sister and nephew more than anyone else in the world. His heart is big, just misguided and he’s trying to find his way back. In this regard, she respects him and she knows that he knows this too.

Somehow, she managed never to really know her fiancé. All she knows is that she’s disappointed him.

And that knowledge alone is already too much to bear.


	13. Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2.11

_Denial_

Holder tells himself that it was silly of him to ever think of her as a machine. But boy when that woman wants something, she will fight tooth and nail for it and she’ll barrel through any obstacle in her way, all 5 foot 2 of her.

But that routine of eating and sleeping on the go and sometimes skipping them altogether hits a limit and when you hit that limit, all you can do is crash.

Passed out cold in the car; in a way, he’s flattered that she trusts him enough to let him see that side of her. But then it could be because she had no choice and he just happen to be the one there to make sure she got from A to B safely.

Either way, he’s incline to tell her what everyone else has been telling her and he wants to kick himself for it because he’d been the only person to fight on her side all along. Holder knows addiction and he knows the junk you can do to your body when you get too obsessed over one thing. Question is, is he in the position to tell Linden this?

He hopes that maybe the meds will calm her down a little, make her see reason.

Or maybe the still-healing injuries to his ribs would be a testament.

But he finds that he’s disappointed, no, exasperated that she’s lucid enough to dive back into the case again. And, as it stands, he is _not_ in the position to tell Linden that it’s probably a good idea to take a shower before heading back to that death trap.

All he can do is agree to follow her back there and hope that Linden has a trump card up her sleeve. It’s all he’s ever been able to do and, apparently, nothing has since changed.


	14. Wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.11

_Wind_

He holds onto the hope that one day he’ll stop disappointing the people he cares about.

Holder knows it doesn’t take a lot to lose a person’s trust and he knows he has to move mountains to gain it back. But he’s willing to move that mountain, one pebble at a time, if it’s worth it. And with his family, it’s always worth it.

This time, he makes sure to plan things out in advance so things go off without a hitch. He picks up the gifts the day before and keeps them in the backseat of his car in case he forgot, and plans when to leave the island so he’d get there on time. He calls his sister and leaves her a couple of voicemails saying he’ll be there for sure. He’s excited every time he glances into the backseat and can’t wait to see the look on Davie’s face when he gives them to him.

But then he finds himself conceding more time and delaying his plans. Something is going on with his partner’s son and he’s confronted with a dilemma.

And he apologizes to them the way he always does but this time, he means it. Still, the words and the desperation is the same and he knows that there is nothing he can really say to make it _different_.

It never occurs to him that he should ditch Linden. Maybe the person he once was would have but it is not who he is now.

Regardless, he still checks his phone for missed calls or text messages. He makes a couple of more calls, hoping maybe they’d pick up and he can explain himself in person. He’s afraid they won’t check their voicemail until tomorrow or the end of the week or something. He wants a sign that they’ve at least heard his messages but he receives none.

He and Linden eat and talk life, philosophy and tattoos. He educates her on his path to self-actualization but she doesn’t seem to get it. They find a pocket of peace in the midst of their hectic day but it doesn’t last long. 

It is not until things get desperate that Holder forgets about the parade. It’s the only time he sees Linden cast aside her work completely and let her emotions drive her. It shakes him to see her this way and he can’t imagine leaving her to do this alone.

He finds himself restraining her as she screams and thrashes and kicks him back.

“It’s not him, Linden!”

“It’s NOT him!”

And then, they’re both holding their breaths, frozen where they stand as the John Doe is identified.

And it’s not him.

But the fear has gripped Linden so hard that the flood of relief is painful. She stumbles to a vaguely private area and lets it out and out and out. Holder doesn’t know how to manage this side of Linden but he’s there with a tentative hand on her shoulder and all the patience in the world.

He stays with her until they make it back to her motel and see Jack waiting at the door.

When Linden’s gone, Holder feels more alone that he’d ever been. The regret he’d forgotten about comes back to him full force and there is nobody by his side or hand on his shoulder to tell him he’s done the right thing.

His phone rings and it’s about the case. The case. He’ll make it right again with the case.

 


	15. Order

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.1 and 2.7

_Order_

Over the phone, all you can really do is scream and yell and say the same thing over and over again, to no avail.

_From the safety of their kitchen, Mitch Larsen begs her husband to tell her what’s going on. Her mother’s instincts tell her the absolute worse has come true but she hopes and prays that she’s wrong._

Linden’s anger flares as she listens to Holder’s grunts and screams from the security of her car. He’s outnumbered and they’re beating him but there’s nothing she can do from where she is to stop it.

This form of communication is also a barrier. All that passes between each party is their voice. Everything else remains restrained by distance and it’s in their helplessness that this distance is apparent.

_“Stan, Stan! What’s happening, Stan?”_

_“Holder? Holder!”_

In this respect, there’s a limit to their communication. The person on the other end is helpless or overwhelmed. They are caught in their own experiences, ones that cannot be relayed over the phone to the other person. All that can be passed through are bits and pieces, an incomplete picture that results from this means of communication.

_Denny and Tommy can only watch in fear and confusion. Their mom is crying and yelling and talking to their dad, but that’s all they know. Something is wrong, but that’s all they know._

Jack senses something is wrong and it has to do with Holder, but that’s all he knows.

_Mitch and Stan must wait to meet with the coroner before they can know for sure. Their sorrow is immeasurable and they still cannot fully accept what has happened but at least they can be certain._

Linden has to go through the chain of command and request a search. It’s more of a delayed process than she would have liked (which would have been to be _there_ right away) but it will help Holder.

Over the phone, communication is limited but it is often a means to initiate a process that brings people together and leads to truth.

And it’s better than not knowing at all.


	16. Thanks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2.8

_Thanks_

It is so unbelievably frustrating existing somewhere in the middle of the chain of command, more so when the guy above you is out to get you.

Linden’s sure this is what it is because it can’t be anything else.

_“My partner’s out there alone and he needs us!”_

_“He was screaming, they were beating him, deplore the search!”_

Begging is a waste of time and energy, so she leaves with a warning and heads to the Indian reservation herself.

She’s fueled by desperation and a weak tactic – her ability to bluff. And it doesn’t occur to her that any of this is irrational because it’s about time and her partner’s life and her own bad decisions.

When reinforcement comes (and she is so, _so_ relieved that they actually came), she digs along with them. She can’t just sit there and wait while they do the work, it’d just make her go crazy.

And she is determined to move the ground she’s standing on just to find him. She will not leave until she finds him.

Where is he?

Where is he?

Think!

Look!

Look for clues, signs, smells, _anything._

He’s here somewhere, but where, _where_?

When she finally sees Holder lying there bloodied and unconscious she can barely believe what she sees. The guilt, fear, anger and shame all attack her at once but she’s also so, so glad to have found him.

And when she hears that he’s alive, she thanks whatever force out there that kept this from being a lot worse than it actually is.


	17. Look

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2.8

_Look_

It’s the first selfless act Linden has done in a long time and it rips her apart.

It’s the whole meal deal. She’s letting go of the person she loves most in the world, she’s admitting to herself that she’s failing as a mother and she’s conceding to the man she resents so vehemently. But the worst part is that she doesn’t know what will happen to her son when he’s gone. She doesn’t know how he’ll be treated and if he’ll be a pariah in the so-called new family her ex-husband is bringing him into. She doesn’t know how he’ll fair without her and she doesn’t know how she’ll fair without him.

But a mother’s love is a force that sways even Linden so here she stands, watching forlornly out the window of the Seattle airport as the plane carrying her son takes him away.

She presses herself against the glass, her instincts still drawing her to him. It’s so hard; so, so hard to watch the distance between them get bigger and bigger but she’s done this to herself.

 _She’s done this to herself_ , she thinks.

If only she’d listened to Regi. If only Linden had let Jack stay with her instead of forcing him to leave out of her own pride. If only she’d been there when he had that fever or when he told her he didn’t like their motel or when he _specifically asked her to stay with him._

If only she didn’t do the stupid things she did to put him in danger. What was the best thing she taught him as his mother? How to sneak out a bathroom window when the cops came. That was the best thing she taught him.

The extent of the damage sickens her worse than anything she’d witnessed at a crime scene.

She stands alone and watches as the one person she has left leave for the man who has everything. And she tells herself again that she deserves it.

It’s for the best.

It’s for the best.

But it still hurts.

It hurts so much.

She wants him back.

Because she’s his mother.

And he’s her son.

A tentative hand touches her shoulder and Holder tells her ‘Little man called to say good bye.’ There’s a bandage over his right temple and he’s a little pale but she guesses that his ribs look a lot worse.

Together, they share the silence. Linden and Holder never shared the same world or the same experiences but they’re both people who act selfishly and have hurt those they’d love doing so. He watches the plane disappear into the distance with her and tells her, without words, that she’s not alone.

Jack had always liked Holder for some reason. This might be it.


	18. Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every episode where there’s rain, so basically every episode.

_Summer_

Sometimes the rain is unbearable.

It soaks through everything right down to the underwear and you always feel cold and gross. You’d carry an umbrella but it can get cumbersome when you’re chasing down a bad guy or sneaking into places you shouldn’t be sneaking into. It’s also easy to forget them in odd places and they’re not always cheap.

But these are conditions Linden has grown used to over the years with Seattle PD. They make jokes about it, saying how for every day of sunshine they’re slammed with four days of downpour (and this would be the summer they’re talking about).

Sonoma was going to be her paradise. No more tight deadlines, running on no sleep and vending machine food, regular hours (for whatever job she was going to get when she got there) and time for her new family. Not to mention the California sun. That was what she looked forward to the most: bright, beautiful weather for a new start.

But here she is, digging in the dirt-turned-mud for evidence in Seattle a week after she thought she was going to leave. Apparently her partner is perfectly content with this. She’s still not sure if he really meant it or if he was just psyching her out. Either way, he still runs for the car when they transition from indoors to outdoors.

When they talk, with their hoods pulled over their heads and partially covering their faces, they practically have to yell. Rainwater speckles their faces and gets inside their mouths and eyes and communication is just made a pain altogether.

They walk a little hunched and always squinting, attempting to evade the rain and knowing nothing they do would help. They drink from damp coffee cups and fish their fast food from soaked, ripping paper bags.

It’s miserable.

But, admittedly, it’s a little less miserable when other people are miserable with her. There is a funny but pathetic irony to doing this with someone else because it sucks like hell but kind of fun at the same time.

He’s also the type of person who cracks jokes that are so bad, they’re good. She laughs, not because of what he says, but because he’s said it at all. She could be in sunny Sonoma with her fiancé but she’s not. She’s here, with this random person who’s now her partner, and trying to get into the mind of a dead girl.

And it’s actually not so bad.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here in Vancouver, it's not much of a stretch imagining the weather in Seattle. And yes, it is that bad.


	19. Transformation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3.1

_Transformation_

She takes a jab at his clothes and hair cut.

But the more she hears about how well he’s doing at the Seattle PD, the more she doubts herself.

It’s peaceful here on the island working at the ferries where she can properly clock out and not think about work. She’s kicked her smoking habit and makes the time to run every day. Old wounds are healing and she’s no longer carrying the weight of dead bodies on her shoulders.

Ah, but she misses it.

She misses the power trip of pulling her weapon from her hip and pointing it, knowing that it could take a life. She misses chasing down a suspect and of breaking the speed limit, her heart racing and forehead sweaty and not knowing if she’ll make it. She misses the mystery and the challenge of piecing together the different stories that make up what happened to her victims. She misses the grind of a long but productive day.

Too bad she can’t tell him.

Linden smiles, pours him tea and tells him to keep looking for that missing box.


	20. Tremble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3.8

_Tremble_

Linden doesn’t know if Pastor Mike (Mark) is crazy enough to shoot her, but she’s going to assume so anyways.

Everything is dark. From the back seat, all that’s visible are his eyes.

She’s in the driver’s seat but he has a better vantage point.

It’s so hard, driving like this, with a gun behind her.

She tries hard to keep her voice calm.

To remember what she learned at the academy for situations like this.

She was in foster care too, she says, she understands.

She too has done good and failed.

She too has known loss.

That’s right, keep him talking.

The radio beneath her thigh presses uncomfortably.

“Tell me about the girl, what happened to her?”

He’s right, she wouldn’t have believed him.

She hears the gun click and tells herself to keep talking.

Keep talking.

Tell him stories.

Tell him lies.

Tell him things that will make him listen.

Tell him things that will make him stop.

Just. Stall. Him.

_Someone save me._

_Someone come get me._

_Someone listen to this conversation._

“I saw my friend there, standing on the median, alone.”

_Standing here on the median._

_On this median._

_Come on, Holder, you know what I’m talking about._

_I know you’re listening._

_And I know you get it._

_I’m trusting you with my life._

“No one’s coming.” She tells Pastor Mike.

But it’s too late.

He’s found out.

He’s found the radio.

And he’s going to kill her.

She’s going to die.

She doesn’t want to die.

Plead with him!

Beg him!

Do something so he doesn’t kill you!

“Don’t do this!”

“Please!”

“Don’t do this!”

“Please.”

“Please.”

Don’t cry.

Stay calm and don’t cry.

Keep thinking.

Think hard.

Run while he’s praying.

No, he’s too fast.

He’ll shoot for sure.

What’s that?

Sirens!

They’ve come!

Thank God they’ve come.

And then she hears them; their voices.

They’re going to get her out of this.

She’s going to be okay.

She’s going to be okay.

You’re going to be okay.

He came to get you.

And you won’t die.

Not today.


	21. Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3.5

_Sunset_

_[Caroline]_

There has always been a wedge in their relationship, but she never knew what was behind it.

The Assistant D.A. in her endeavored to find out and fix it. She knew (somewhat) where Holder came from, what he became and how hard he worked to get where he is. She by no means intended to condescend him, instead proved with every fibre of her being that she’s not the type of person he’d assume she’d be.

But that wasn’t it. No matter how much she conceded, how willing she was to overlook things with Stephen, there was still incongruence between them that she alone could not rectify.

Their jobs were what they were and this was known to both of them when they entered into this relationship. Their jobs occasionally went hand-in-hand and complemented each other, but most of the time, they didn’t. She and Stephen had different hours, different procedures, different loyalties and different objectives. They don’t like to bring up these differences, but they’re there.

Stephen came over to her place and she went to his. They leave things at each others’ places and she douses his very obvious fears of inadequacies with that charming wit of hers. He knows she cares and she knows he’s thankful for the little things she does for him.

Even if he doesn’t know it or doesn’t reciprocate, she tries very hard to make this relationship work.

So what is it?

It’s Valentine’s Day and she asks herself what she’s expecting. The answer, she tells herself, is anything. They have a night in and spend a cozy evening with a home-cooked meal and documentaries. In truth, she loves it because she knows it’s genuine and it’s him. Stephen doesn’t seize the chance to play it up like every other boyfriend she’d had and, for that, she’s satisfied.

So she tells herself that they can work with their unexpected guest as well. Linden is everything Stephen’s told her (which had been a lot). She wants to be a good host even if the situation is a little awkward.

But it’s also Valentine’s Day and Stephen is her boyfriend. She can absolutely balance things, but she finds that she can’t hold back the disappointment when he, in a weak roundabout way, tells her he’d forgotten.

And Linden is a witness to it.

And the awkwardness just gets worse.

It’s then that Stephen’s phone rings. They both know it’s work-related but he stalls to answer it anyways.

As she anticipates, he and Linden have to go. _The clock never stops_ he’d said, several times before.

They close the door behind them and she sits in silence.

And it’s in this solitude that she realizes that, in the short time Linden had been there, she hadn’t done much. In fact, she hadn’t done anything. But it’d been very easy for Stephen to get up and leave with her and…

Maybe she’s thinking to deeply into it. It’s just work and that’s all there is to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not clear on the fandom’s stance on Caroline but I kind of like her. I think the general feeling is that she and Holder aren’t a compatible match but it’s clear that she tries hard for him and that in itself is something I find commendable.


	22. Mad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3.9

_Mad_

_Her first words are sympathetic: “I’m sorry.”_

Her first words are empathetic: “It’s not your fault.”

_She puts the blame on them. “You know the danger these kids put themselves into.”_

She knows he blames himself and repeats those same words over and over again to try and pull him out.

_Her vantage point has always been from the position where she looks down._

She’s walked with them side-by-side.

_She has never really asked about his ink, only commented on them._

She has asked and his answers were kind of weird, but at least she asked.

_She fills the silences with words wherever she can._

She is comfortable sitting in silence for as long as he needs.

_She hates his smoking._

He has roped her back into it.

_She knows he’s in pain._

She knows he’s in pain.

_And she tries to make it better._

And she tries to make it better.

_But she doesn’t know how._

And she knows how.

_But he screws it up._

And he screws it up more.

_He yells at her and orders her to get out._

He tries to kiss her.

_He scares her away._

He ruins what they have.

_Caroline, I’m sorry._

Linden, I’m sorry.

_I screwed up._

I screwed up.

_I was mad and I wasn’t thinking._

I was lonely and I wasn’t thinking.

_Forgive me._

Forgive me.


	23. Thousand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3.9

_Thousand_

_“The clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting.”_ – Haruki Murakami

In this place of cement, steal, barbwire and solitude, regret brings them together.

 …

Linden faces the man she’d put behind bars two years ago, the man whose case sent her to a psychiatric institute and almost cost her custody of her son.

For some reason, she still believes he’s innocent.

It is eleven hours before Seward’s execution. She holds up the plastic bag. “Do you recognize any of these rings?”

 ...

A week before his execution and it finally hits Seward. He’s going to die. They’re going to hang him by the neck with a rope and whatever happens to him after that, he won’t know.

He’s heard the noises from his cell; the machinery working day and night for his own custom-made gallows. Until then, he’d felt like a superstar. He’d been power-tripping over pissing off the other guards, inmates and that annoying woman who’d pleaded him to consent to her adoption of his son. He’d become known as the first man in, what was it, 27 years? Who’d chosen to hang. He’d confidently rejected all this chances to reduce his sentence, just to get the satisfaction of freaking them out. He got off on seeing people beg.

But with the weighing and re-weighing, that asshole next to him who keeps talking about the Bible and an afterlife and Becker who just loves to talk about what’ll happen to his body after it’s over, Seward caves. And he doesn’t just cave, he crashes. All the desperation that his pride had so thoroughly suppressed falls on him all at once and all he sees is the need to live.

So then, he becomes the one who begs. Pride gone, he screams and yells and cries out for _something_ that will save him. Over and over again, he’s told he’s too late. He’s too late. He’s too late.

…

The only thing stopping the thoughts that eat him up inside is getting piss-drunk.

Even then, the thoughts are still relentlessly loud. A thousand possibilities plague Holder’s mind. A thousand things he could have done differently to save Bullet’s life. A thousand chances he could have had to catch the sick son of a bitch who murdered those girls.

And he’d missed all of them.

So what’s there to do now? Nothing will fix it; nothing will bring back the dead. Who can he apologize to but the sky or the wind or wherever he believes her spirit is headed.

Damn his pride!

He should have picked up that damn phone!

But he didn’t and this is what he has to live with.

Time for another beer.

 …

 Linden has lost track of time. She doesn’t know how long she’d been there, but if she wants to do something for Seward, she’s stuck there.

She sustains herself from the vending machine and manages to take a 10-minute nap, upright in one of the waiting room chairs.

A scratch on a ring, that’s all she has to request him a stay.

But she will fight for this. She _has_ to fight for this she had been the one to put him away and she needs to know for her that he hadn’t done it.

She needs to know so she can fix her mistakes.


	24. Outside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-canon

_Outside_

There is more than one way to be trapped.

 …

Linden goes over the Seward file for the twentieth time that day. The papers are spread out on her bed and she’d taken to sleeping on the floor as not to disturb the their careful placement. She’d stared at the photo of Trisha Seward’s body for so long that it no longer bothers her and she often forgets to keep it out of her son’s sights as a result.

The case is closed; she’d put the perpetrator behind bars herself. So why does she find herself going back to this file? What is it about closing this case that’s so hard? Why does she have a nagging feeling in the back of her head that it’s not over?

_He’d been trapped in that apartment for a week with his mother’s bleeding, rotting corpse._

A knock from her bedroom door snaps her out of her thoughts. She feels dazed and her vision is slightly blurred.

“I’m hungry.”

“Check the fridge, Jack, I’m busy right now.”

“There’s nothing.”

“Are you sure? Check the freezer.”

“There’s nothing.”

“Alright, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“You already said that.”

“I’ll be out soon, okay? I’m busy.”

Linden yawns and downs the rest of her coffee. There has to be something. _There has to be something._

* * *

The doctor gave him pretty clear-cut options: get clean or die. What he didn’t say, something which Holder had to come to realize himself, is that he could die getting clean.

His body needs it. It’s like sleep or food or water or air. His body needs it and it needs it badly. Without any of the above, you die and without meth, he’d die.

Everyone he talked to said the same thing. You don’t get away from meth, you just don’t. You get into it and it has you, it keeps you and it will grip onto you tightly until there’s nothing left of you. You sell your soul to the crystal goddess and she will own you forever.

But he doesn’t want to die. Not yet, anyways. Some days, he’s not sure. Some days he’s willing to resign to an early grave just to feed his need again. Some days that’s all he can think of.

Other days, he researches things like Narcotics Anonymous and alternative healing and the like. Every second browsing these sites shames him and reminds him of how hard rock-bottom really feels. He hates himself and deletes his browsing history every time he’s done, even though no one would look through his computer.

Nothing else gets him the same high. Not the nicotine or the drinks or the weed. It’s like scratching through your jeans – not the same thing.

 _Just try to get to one month_ , the doc had said.

Holder scoffs. Yeah, okay. Sure.


	25. Winter (Spring)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-canon (as in post Season 3)

_Winter (Spring)_

Linden had never been in the camp of people who looked forward to winter holidays. The reasons were obvious. She didn’t grow up with any sort of family, therefore, didn’t do any of the usual things families did. One of which, of course, being to celebrate the holiday season as a nice, warm, happy unit.

She’d wanted to change this when she married Greg. She’d hope that marriage would be the start to a whole new set of traditions, ones that would make up for what she missed out on in her past so she could teach herself to love these traditions the way everyone else seemed to.

For a few years, this had been successful and more so when they had Jack. But then work started making things difficult again. At first, she did her best to make up for missed birthdays and Christmases, then she lost track of how many she needed to make up for and gave up on it altogether.

This year will be another year with the Seattle Police Department in which she plans to take her work home with her and lie about what she’s actually doing. She plans it so that she’d be the last person to leave (which is pretty much the norm anyways), and then sneak out with the files she’s working on. It’s not stealing, just borrowing and she does it all the time.

Everyone’s gone, except Holder, who doesn’t seem to be doing anything other than warm the chair with his ass.

They stare at each other; she challenging him and he challenging her. She takes a sip of coffee, then goes back to browsing the web and making it look like she’s doing something important.

He grins, making those dimples appear.

“What?”

“Nothin.’”

She gives him a sidelong glance and turns attention back to her screen.

He swivels his chair and attempts to get a basket. He fails.

“I thought you’ve been practicing.”

“I have, just tryin’ to see if you’re payin’ attention.”

“I’m always paying attention. And maybe you’re not as good as you think.” She smirks, eyes still fixed on her computer.

“Oh really,” He crumples a piece of scrap paper into a tight ball and tosses it at her. It bounces off her and onto her keyboard. “Then you try.”

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Too busy with your –“ he peeks at her screen before she could change to a different tab, “Googlin’ long-tailed possums?”

“Yes.” And she feebly adds, “It’s part of my research.”

He makes a noise that’s probably meant to be laughter but sounds more like a cat scratching a metal washing basin. “If you say so.”

“So is this what you’re planning to do all night?” Her tone is cool, which is telling only to the few who know her.

“Yup.”

“Doesn’t sound very productive.”

“Didn’ say it was.”

“So what’s the point?”

He shrugs, “What do possums have to do with a serial murder?”

“That’s my business.”

“That’d how the whole partner thing work, is it?”

“Whatever. Just go home already, I know you want to.”

He gestures dramatically, “And miss out on all this? The office is where it’s at!”

Linden just rolls her eyes.

A period of silence follows in which Linden’s impatience grows. She has resorted to making tumblr, Pintrest and LinkedIn accounts. She considered a facebook as well, but decided against it. Because, really, what about her life other than work would she have to talk abou –

“Man, I’m starvin’.”

“Then eat something.”

“The vendin’ machine is outta the chips I like.”

“Then go elsewhere.”

“Like where?”

“Have you given thought to the possibility of leaving the station?”

“Nah man, that’s crazy.”

She looks at him, exasperated. “What are you trying to do, Holder?”

“I think the real question here is what are _you_ ,” he flicks his index finger at her, “trying to do?”

“I’m working.”

“No you’re not.”

She huffs, “Fine! I’m not. So what?”

“Look, it’s gotta be like,” He makes a pretense at checking his watch, “Eleven thirty. I know a 24/7 burger place, let’s grab a bite.”

Linden hesitates, but knows it’s probably to no avail.

He leans in, and those thin lips grin at her again, “Promise I’ll turn my back when you jack those files under your desk.”

She clenches her jaw, “I’m not ‘jacking’ anything.”

“The point is, I’ll turn my back.”

Sometimes, she thinks to herself, he is just absolutely unbelievable. But she finds herself struggling to hold it against him, at least not this time.

“Fine.”


	26. Diamond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2.13

_Diamond_

Some moments are meant to be shared. Actually, some moments evoke a desire in people to share it with others.

Or maybe, some moments remind people of their loneliness and, therefore, people are driven to share them.

For Linden, this was a moment meant to be shared but she has chosen to take it for herself.

Alone in the darkness of the film room, she views Rosie’s Super 8 film. She doesn’t know what to expect when she turns on the projector but she is eager anyways.

What she sees is far more closure than she’d ever hoped for. The film reveals a heart for adventure, freedom and love for family. It is motion-picture scrapbook of memories past and hopes to come. It is crafted with the care of someone who wishes to preserve it forever and made to exist as a legacy.

It reaffirms the things Rosie’s family had insisted were true about her and puts to rest all of the false accusations of her deeds at the Wapi Casino.

Linden learns something about her job as a detective. She learns that lines such as ‘You don’t know her, you don’t know Rosie’ shouldn’t be dismissed completely and that there is reason for loved ones to be offended by her objectivity. The film is something that makes her rethink the potential for human innocence and it’s resilience in a world full of corruption.

In her world as a detective, the view is breath taking. It is the view Rosie wanted to see from the tenth floor of that casino before she left, a view that brings peace and closure.

But it’s also in this moment that Linden recognizes her selfishness. After all, the film had been handed to Holder (not her) and she’d snatched it out of his hands. Holder is her partner and pulled his weight through this case. He deserves to view the film as much as she does.

He should be here watching it with her.

But he’s not. And maybe he’s not because it means they’ll enter into a space she doesn’t want to go to. It’ll be like adding another thread to this odd bond they have that will make it harder for her to leave. And didn’t she try to leave several times already?

It’s then that Linden realizes why she’s doing this alone. She wants to leave with as little breakage as possible. She wants out of this life for real and the only time to do so is at the end of a case.

This is her last case. It’s her last case and she’ll enjoy her closure alone.


	27. Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2.10 headcanon (kind of)

_Letters_

There is a stigma that attaches itself to everyone who is admitted into a psychiatric ward.

_They’re crazy._

_They’re out of control._

_They’re dangerous._

_They’re dumb._

_They’re helpless._

_They need to be talked down to._

Linden finds herself staring a Dr. Kerry’s hair and wondering if it’s real. Dr. Kerry speaks slowly, her tone clearly patronizing. It doesn’t matter what Linden’s personal and professional history is because, here, she is a patient.

Dr. Kerry leans back in her chair and threads her fingers together, “You’re a person of few words, Sarah.”

“You ask me questions and I answer them. What else do you want me to say?”

“You aren’t restricted to speaking only to answer a question.”

Linden takes a puff from her cigarette and licks her dry lips. “Isn’t that how the doctor-patient relationship works? You ask me questions, gather whatever information you need from me and take notes and I behave and comply?”

“Something like that. But this is a conversation so I’d like you to speak freely.”

“I have nothing else to say.”

Dr. Kerry seems to think for a moment. Her back is straight and her shoulders are squared, like she’s about to do battle. Linden is fine with the mind games. As a detective, she’s used to it.

“Some people find journaling to be therapeutic. It’s a way of releasing pent-up thoughts without actually sharing with anyone.”

“I’ve never liked journaling.”

“Not even when you were young?”

“No.”

“Why so?”

Another puff. Her cigarette is almost at its end, “Because that’s how people end up finding out your secrets.”

“What do you mean?”

_Bennet’s letters to Rosie._

_Mitch’s letter to David._

“I mean the only safe place to keep your secrets is inside your head. We all have them: you, me, Rosie. Do you journal, Dr. Kerry?”

The psychiatrist scribbles something on her notepad. “No, I don’t.”


	28. Promise

_Promise_

The bruises of broken promises are still tender on their skin.

They’ve come to learn that broken promises remain and stain and weaken trust, sometimes permanently.

They’ve come to learn from many, many failures in the past that success is unlikely. They fear more failure because it makes sense to do so. Haven’t they both failed in their promises more often than they’ve succeeded?

They’ve been conditioned, to put it scientifically. And conditioning is a powerful thing, even for smart, logical people such as themselves.

This will be a relationship, albeit one defined by work. But it’s a relationship nonetheless and the question becomes how they can avoid disappointing each other.

She grins and jams her hands in her pockets, “Subtlety isn’t exactly your strong suit.”

His head dips, almost bashfully. The tension that was his guilt is lifted, “No, maybe not.”

This is how.


	29. Simple

_Simple_

This is how he defines relationships: 

Liz: sister, family

Davie: nephew, family 

Gil: friend, sponsor, ex-friend, traitor, enemy

Oakes: boss

Rosie Larson: first case

Jack: coworker’s son, friend 

Chief Jackson: enemy

Carlson: boss, enemy 

Karl Reddick: coworker, mentor (sort of)

Caroline: work connection, girlfriend 

Bullet: friend, self, traitor, friend, self

Sarah Linden: coworker, mentor, companion, friend, family, something, something, something...


	30. Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-canon (season 3). Also, please see “Beginning.”

_Future_

Peace had proven utterly monotonous for Linden and she’s determined that it’s not for her.

* * *

A lot of time is spent in the car. They’d gotten used to the smell of cigarette butts and stale fries absorbed in the seats. Spare changes of clothes and shoes are strewn in the back along with precious notes and empty coffee cups. They’d take turns sleeping with their feet up during long nights staking out and share the cost for gas.

* * *

Yeah they get in trouble with the higher-ups. Often. Very often.

But they get the job done.

In that unconventional way of theirs, they get the job done.

* * *

She’s not one to pry because she’s not a very disclosive person herself.

But one day she finds a crack, a seamless lead-in to something she’d been wondering about for some time.

“How’s Caroline doing?”

He pauses and his jaw flexes. His answer is a wordless shrug and she changes the subject on his behalf. 

* * *

And she thinks she’ll never really get tired of the way he says the most random thing at the oddest times, just to throw her off. Just to make her smile.

* * *

While waiting for some lab tests to come back, she kills time by cleaning up her contacts. Most of her saved numbers are from witnesses or family members of victims whom she’d called once, maybe twice. At the time she’d taken them, they had been precious, essential information for getting her closer to a conviction. Now, they just take up space.

When she gets to Rick’s number, she hesitates. It’s been over a year since they’d had any communication, but feelings still linger.

There’s no going back. But his number, this means of connecting to him, creates an illusion of this possibility. It creates an illusion that Rick is still there in some kind of capacity. The last thread that connects them will be gone, otherwise.

Linden decides to think about it. She goes on to delete more numbers and snaps her phone shut. The next day, the decision is easier. Like the ripping of a Band-Aid, she does it quickly and endeavors to distract herself, until the hurt fades.

* * *

There are still things to learn about this partnership. They’d been divided by an entire year and her initial impressions of him as the over-confident rookie are slowly eroding away. The new outfit of his helps, although the population they often deal with requires him to revert back to his hoodie and faded jeans.

But he’s now better able to separate his work and his personal life. He’s now more tactical and patient and has better self-control. He keeps her in check (which she doesn’t _completely_ resent) and he’s ambitious.

They stand side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder (figuratively) as equals, as a team.

The life they share is all about death; death of the victims, death of old lives, of old habits, of passing relationships.

And she can’t deny that he keeps things interesting.

Which will be sufficient.

At least for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who've followed these drabbles. When I started, I was determined to keep up with one drabble per day but life, as well as inspiration (or lack of), got in the way, so I did my best to at least make it to the end. I didn't want to half-ass anything and part of the occasional delay was for the sake of refilling the creative well. Hopefully these served their purpose and proved to be a worthwhile read.
> 
> In the beginning, I also had every intention to write at least one drabble with romantic interaction. It was something I wanted to explore and it was something I assumed readers wanted to see. I struggled, however, to break away from the canon representation of these characters, which only barely whispered at romantic intention between them if it did at all. Linden and Holder have so much depth and complexity to who they are as individuals as well as how they connect in ways that speak to more than just a work partnership. I couldn't, even in speculating into a distant future, write them as a traditional romantic pairing and still keep them in character. In spite of this, for each drabble I wanted to look at a different angle in their relationship in order to piece together a kind of mosaic of who they are to each other. I apologize if I let anyone down, that certainly wasn't the intention.
> 
> Lastly, I am so totally excited for Season 4! They were shooting very, VERY close to me and just alsfhasdljfhalsdfhalsdjfahsdjfhalsdjf can't wait until August!


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